Purifier
by Darkrealmist v.2
Summary: A poem based on Avacyn's transformation from Innistrad's divine protector to its fiery iconoclast.


Purifier

Author's Note: Enjoy the poem and R&R.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to or of _Magic: The Gathering_.

Summary:

A poem based on Avacyn's transformation from Innistrad's divine protector to its fiery iconoclast.

* * *

In the fog-drenched world of an Impaler's shadow, the monsters dwell  
Enfamished by demons corrupting the soil, this subterranean hell  
Souls to the harvest circling without the Blessed Sleep  
They shan't be dead a moment, so the living must weep  
Corpses denied the sanctity of holy writ  
Tales unearthed from a treacherous pit  
Pulleyed into a skaberen's surgical kit  
Or swamped up via grafdigger's cage, bit by bit  
Back from the brink  
Ghoulcallers' unburial rites dripping an abattoir's stink  
Ashmouth taskmasters, greedy and ravenous  
How flagitious they must be, morbidly sly and cantankerous  
Drinking from chalices of Skirsdag initiates  
Deaf to the pleas of their foolish subordinates  
Cast to the nothingness between nothings  
Warbling broken, mired, and shapeless on mangled wings  
Shilgengar, who bid eminence to blood  
Markov Manor stands vigil, an impious chapel to his curse upon the mud  
Griselbrand, my mortal foe  
Speared by moonsilver and bound in the Helvault, our shared woe  
Flashes back  
Memory cracks  
Here astounds the mind-wracking damnation of a haunted plane  
Geists abound, rattling their chains  
Untamed in the hunt, the werewolves howl  
Skaabs shamble the lodges, looking for fodder to disembowel  
Moans of the undying Unhallowed, pounding on Thraben's gates  
The vampires feast, in contempt of their food source's falling rates  
Soon they will have none but themselves to eat  
Stensia, Gavony, Kessig, and Nephalia – in creatures replete  
My creator's shame  
Held the bloodsuckers to blame  
Who looted hamlets beyond the pale  
Bled the land until it was stale  
I am his compromise  
A farmer's equilibrium, shepherd of the sunrise  
Balance, my lord decrees  
And so through my church, the darkness flees  
Except in my absence, when peccancy ran unchecked  
Free of the vault, an oversight I set out to correct  
At the shattering choice born of a necromancer's trysts  
The stone the tree of redemption shelters releases me and the renegade recidivists  
Above the blasted remnants, I hear surviving humanity's droning prayers  
Ten thousand petitioners' cries for salvation, melded despairs  
Bonded together by miracle  
Flickering from endangerment, a restoration most lyrical  
To arms, archmages, cathars, and priests!  
Take back the dawn! Repel the beasts!

In the light of brightest new day  
Something squirms into being among the horrors at bay  
A shimmer. A glitch?  
The hex of a witch?  
I, guardian of these provinces, investigate  
Yet in due time, I hasten to castigate  
My vision doubles. Runic obelisks festoon  
Reflection of a gibbous, eldritch moon  
For certain, an attack  
But its source I cannot track  
Aeons torn, individuality plundered  
Biology warped, hope sundered  
As without, so within  
After the promised end, all you've been  
Inchoate attitudes aligned to an unmentionable will  
Ululates beneath the wharf, unnameable even to the squamous krill  
Abuzz my brain, the ever-present thought  
Indistinguishable what once was and what once was not  
Blistering is Kelse towards Maeli, a mother towards her child  
Gone is my tolerance, however mild  
They are transformed into hideous worms  
Heretics! Apostates! Loathsome germs!  
The seeds of men are rotten  
They are better off forgotten  
Only ignoble wretches breed such harshness  
Despicable and sinful, this – this madness!  
An inquisition, I call  
This disease my hosts angelic shall burn and forestall  
You pray to me on high  
On bloodstained wings remorseless I fly  
Keep sterile your souls. Keep sterile your lives  
May angels descend upon you from the skies  
Rejoice!  
Follow my voice!  
You will all be saved!  
Lo, through anguished unmaking, the path to purity will be paved  
Emerge unto the grass of this consecrated ground  
Escalate yourselves that stained glass may quicken with life, the glaze profound  
Pray not your lies to me  
Pulses the Drownyard's apogee  
Wherefore is litany any more useless?  
Before a gaze blank and pitiless  
Do not lose faith to be circumspect  
I am Avacyn. I am to protect


End file.
